“ If my body would govern itself as well, according to my rule, as my mind does, we should move a little more at our ease. ”

Montaigne, Essays.

The skin is a membrane that recovers the body and delimits it. This porous surface between the intimate and the outside, gives a face and a consistency to an invisible inside. It is a space where time, personal history and emotions arise. It is a projection screen of an identity that can be difficult to assume. The skin doesn’t always show what I want to be. It becomes an other one that reveals what we want to hide, it betrays the thought and constrains the inside.

From this moving frontier, a misunderstanding can arise. How to define ourselves when our thoughts are sometimes incoherent and what is seen of us is constantly changing. How to communicate and to interact with each other when there are the limitations of body and language.

Feeling «bad in one’s skin» (être mal dans sa peau) brings to search in the depth and at the edge of this organ. The naked body becomes a space I’m fighting against in the blank of the page. The pencil stroke is like the skin, a porous frontier. The lines divide up, turn around and recompose. The interior fills itself and overflows.

Floating bodies weighted in the flesh of the paper. Hanging bodies on transparent sails. The line and the thread slice the surface to fight against the erasure, they pierce the sheet of paper as the body is marked. To incarnate by grinding and peeling the skin. To become one with yourself, «to shed your skin (faire peau neuve)».